The Realisation of Hunger
by SneverusSnapers
Summary: One-shots based on my story 'Gnawing Hunger'. Favourite scenes are re-told through other eyes. Requests open! Please R & R! Any feedback helpful! You don't need to have read 'Gnawing Hunger' to understand, so just have a quick glance please!
1. The Girl From District 8 :MarthaRose:

**If you want information about what this is and requests and such view the next chapter. Otherwise, enjoy and review! :)**

I see her. The girl from district eight. The girl who got a ten in her training score. I know her name but I avoid it, I'm going to kill her after all. I know it's stupid and selfish and killing will rip me apart but she's the girl from district eight. She's the girl who got a ten in her training score. She's the girl who I'm going to kill to keep myself alive. I need the sponsors. I'm a nobody, but once I remove the biggest player in this game people will look at me differently. With admiration, puzzlement, respect even. I'll knock us all into the final eight, and then I'll keep on going until I win this thing. I don't want to kill anyone, but she's the girl from district eight and I need her dead.

I follow her through the bushes; she's walking through the woods, unaware of my presence. She freezes and I seize my chance. I pull back the string on my bow and aim my arrow at her heart. For a moment I hesitate, but then I remind myself of who she is. She's the girl from district eight. I let the arrow shoot towards her and I know that I'm a murderer as she drops to the floor.

But then she springs back up again. She's seen me somehow, how stupid I've been. She flies off and I follow, desperate. I can't lose her now; everyone will think I'm a nobody. But I'm not, I need to be someone. I need to be a winner. I crash through the undergrowth after her. I'm gaining on her; I might actually finish what I've begun. Suddenly I've reached a clearing and the girl from district eight is standing there, hands held aloft.

Is she giving in? My face flushes with a smile. Now I can get this over with, now I can kill her. But then she speaks, this wasn't meant to happen. I'll get attached, I'll get roped in by her words. But still I listen.

"At least come out so I can see my murderer." Stammers the girl, knowing she's standing on her last feet.

_Murderer_, the word pings something in my heart. Yes, I'm going to kill her. I'm not going to change that. But she has a right. She has a right to see my face, and anyway, what harm could it possibly do? I creep out of the shadows, letting myself be seen in the open. There's something in her hands though. Not a weapon of a sort, but a rope; a rope with a knot in it which is flying towards me, ready to capture me.

I fumble with my bow. Maybe I can shoot her quickly, but the rope whips at me, knocking my bow aside and sending me skidding across the floor. The top layers of skin from my knees have come off and I clutch at them in pain, feeling it sting my body. But I can't think of that now, I mustn't think of that now. I struggle to get up and a loop of a rope flies towards me. Just in time I yank my foot away, I have to live. I have to win. I'm not anybody, I'm somebody. I'm real and I'm here, and I want to keep it that way. There's my bow, just next to me. If I can get it then I'm fine. I'll shoot an arrow through her heart before she notices anything else, and then I'm free.

But the rope flies again just as I lift myself up and this time it catches and this time I can't get away, I'm caught. She's tugging me towards her, scraping all my skin on the ground. Haven't my knees gone through enough suffering? Haven't I been through enough suffering? But it seems not. The girl slings her end of the rope over the tree and I leap up and run toward my bow and arrows, but she grabs the very end of it and tugs again, this time with her body weight as well as her strength. I'm no match for her.

I'm dragged, scraping along the floor until suddenly there isn't anything below me. A chasm! She's hooked me over a chasm. I am dangling upside down, my wavy brown hair falling behind my head. I struggle, but I know even if I can break the rope I'll die anyway. Death feels too close. Death feels too hard.

Tears stream down my face. I've never cried upside down before so they stay in my eyes, clouding my vision and making my eyes sting. I scream a long mournful screech. I'm going to die. I don't want to die. I don't deserve to die. Just anyone, anything, let me live, let me have a life like I've always wanted, it's all I wanted. All my rights have been stolen by the Capitol and now my right to live has too. The girl from district eight wanders up to me, as if admiring me. I have to seem tough, and strong.

"Come to gloat?" I ask her, knowing that those very words could be my last. I pour all my emotions into anger at this girl – my murderer, and also at the Capitol for they are the ones pulling the strings. I look at the girl's face. It is filled with sorrow and is that a tear I see in her eye. She brushes it away but I understand. She's like me; she has to kill to live. She's not a career who enjoys and relishes ending life, she's like me. She's a girl from a district and she wants to go home.

The girl reaches for the rope and I know she's about to release me to plummet to my death when she takes me goggles. I'm enveloped in darkness; at least she gave me one right which the Gamemakers didn't; the right to die in peace.

I just want it over. The girl from district eight grabs one of my arrows and uses it to saw away at the rope by my foot which is holding me up. I'll soon die; I'll soon end all this suffering that life has bought me. But I'm afraid, oh so afraid. I'm afraid for my family and for my friends. I'm afraid for this strange girl and all the other tributes and most importantly I'm afraid for myself.

The rope gets severed and I feel the freezing cold air whoosh past my face. Then I feel the stone; the cold, hard stone, the stone which ends my life. My fear is ended. Everything is ended. Everything is black.

She's the girl from district eight. I'm the girl from district six. I'm the girl she killed.


	2. Blanket :Dral:

**If you haven't read 'Gnawing Hunger' you'll probably be very puzzled so I advise you to go and read it first, though you can always read this now if you want to. It's actually pretty short!**

I slowly wake up and reach for the blanket. It's not here. Kara's probably got it with her, ah well, it doesn't matter anyway. What does matter is Kara. Where is she? It looks like she probably got up earlier, but I can't tell because it's pitch black. I can't see at all so I grope around, my hand wandering around this shelter and pick up something slimy and fling it away from me. I'm from district four, I know what that is.

What's a fish doing in our hut? Ah, this is Kara's fish – the one she caught and I haven't been able to do since, another thing I'm incompetent at. I can't do anything. At home I'm just a 'fish boy', a 'sea breeze', no-one important. I try hard for my family and if I don't get back they'll probably starve. When I told Kara about my family she seemed shocked like she never imagined actually had one. Of course I have a family. It seems I know her less and less.

Kara – I have no idea what I think about her. At first glance I saw through her disguise like a fish through water, but now I know the true her. She's calm and conceited and although she looks really hot she is nice and kind deep down, unlike Precious or other girls like her. Kara's real. The problem is that I don't think I've met the real her, I've just seen the glittery outer shell.

My clothes are still damp from yesterday when we fell in the pool of water. That was funny, but now I look back on this I see the huge charade we've been playing. Only one of us can live, as I tell myself every morning I get up knowing that Kara is here. One of us has to die.

I shuffle out of the camp and glance around the camp. Now where's that pot. I better brew a nice breakfast for us. I look around the camp. No pot. Maybe Kara's cooking wherever she is. Where is she then? I stumble over towards the pool of water. Maybe she's washing? No Kara. I search around the camp. She's not here, and half of the water purification system has disappeared, probably got by squirrels or something. Luckily I can still make drinkable water from the pieces that remain.

But where is Kara? She's probably taken some initiative and gone out hunting, a good thing too. I was beginning to wonder whether she would ever start helping around. Something deep down inside me is screaming something at me, but I'm too tired to notice. I stumble over to the pool, catching my foot on an upturned pan but managing to keep my balance. What's that doing there?

I reach the pool and look down at my face. I seem to have aged throughout the games. But as I cup my hands with water to splash on my face I notice something strange on my face, a red blotch. I rub it and the red comes off on my fingers. It's not a rash then. I stare at my face and look at the shape of the blotch. It's like a mouth.

The realisation hits me, sending me reeling forwards and toppling into the pool. I crash down into the water, it foaming and flying above me. Kara's fish lands in my lap, a new one. Finally I caught one! But I don't really care now. I just sit in the icily cold pool of water, shivering and staring blankly at the sky. The water washes off the mark but it was there and I know what it means.

My name is Dralakone Hurling, I am fourteen years old and I am alone.

**Dralakone! Yup - that's Dral's new name! (No wonder he sticks with Dral) PLEASE review! Oh, and I take requests but be warned - It doesn't mean I'm 100% doing the scene though. I'll do it if I like it and I think I can get something out of it! :) Also - I'll probably so any death scene you throw at me. This is for Gnawing Hunger, yes. So I won't write about Katniss or Peeta or Hatmitch or anyone - this is for the scenes in Gnawing Hunger you want to hear from someone else's view or the lost scenes you really wanted (like this one - I wanted to hear this!) REVIEW REVIEW REVIW! :)**


	3. Bloodbath :Leon:

I stand on the launch pad by the Cornucopia, getting ready to run.

_Right, remember what your tutor told you, run away from the Cornucopia, you won't last a second. Run away. AWAY. Right, good that's sorted; there is a forest behind me; that should provide some cover. I'll be fine, I'll get through this, and I'll win. But the stuff at the Cornucopia is so tempting, I don't have any survival skills, I don't know how to live. I need food and water. How is running away going to help me if I just die of thirst first? There's a waterproof poncho in front of me, I'll just get that and then go. I know I should run, I really do, but I'm Leon Jackal Ripe from district twelve and I never listen to anyone. Today that trait will get me killed._

The gong sounds off and I jump, terrified. What should I do? I glance around frantically, run or grab? Run or grab? Every moment I spend standing here the worse my position becomes; I have to move, and fast. I sprint towards the Cornucopia, ignoring every instinct that tells me to get out of there. I bend down and scoop up the poncho and shove it in my pocket - now to go. But there's better stuff closer in – no-one's paying attention to the gangly fourteen year-old from district twelve. Maybe I can nip in and get some better stuff, food and water. I freeze momentarily, undecided and then choose to run further in.

Everyone else is too preoccupied with each other. The girl from eight just ducked a spear which stabbed another tribute and the pretty career finished her off. Move! I sprint towards the Cornucopia. This is too easy. I see the boy from four, he's my age. He'll get me! I turn to leave but then notice the girl from eight charging at him. I sprint forward; they won't give me any trouble. I run quickly, my feet patting on the ground. Then suddenly the girl from eight is here, right in my face. I try to move out of the way but it's too late and the knife plunges into my stomach, filling my mouth with blood.

Where did she come from? It's too late now. My eyes are going fuzzy but I still see her mortified face staring blankly at me. She won, she killed me, but she doesn't look happy, she looks terrified. This is no ordinary career; she came from a non-career district. But she got a ten in training, so how come her face is paler than mine? How come she looks more scared than me? The knife gets tugged out of my stomach and I can see inside myself, my organs writhing helplessly.

I fall backwards and lie on the floor. The girl dashes off into the Cornucopia, leaving me alone when I die. I wouldn't say alone, there is a raging battle around me, yet I am alone for no-one who I wished would be here is. My sister, my parents, my girlfriend, all of them will cry for me today because now I know that today is the day I die.

My eyes droop slowly and my head spins, causing me to groan a name. That name is the last sound that escapes my lips, that name is the last thing that holds me to this world. That name is the name of my murderer.

_Kara Jaymond._


	4. Blind :Suzie:

**This is one of aFOXXinthecloset's requests. :) It's about Suzie Thread (yup - that's her last name) when Precious and Anvike return to the camp. PLEASE review and PLEASE request otherwise I'll have to do all of FOXX's many requests and that could take some time...**

I fiddle with my hands and pace up and down the stream repetitively. I wipe some sweat off my brow. Now I'm worried, really worried. The hovercraft came a couple of days ago, taking Daphne and Cecil's dead bodies with it, limp and lifeless. I shake my head and stake a quick swig from my water bottle. What will Anvike and Precious do when they find me here, guarding the base. I had a quick encounter with the small twelve-year old from district seven, June, I think her name was. She got away but left me with a gash on my left arm which has now got infected, and none of the medicine in the camp can help me. I can only hope these games are over soon because I don't know if I can last that long. A fever is gripping me and I find myself waking up from vicious nightmares, screaming Dral's name.

Why? He could have gone for me, but instead he went for all glamour Kara. It just shows how unfair life is. They're probably laughing at me right now, imagining how I'm faring. I can't believe I thought they were my friends. You don't have friends in the Hunger Games, you just have enemies. I sit down around the smoking embers of the fire, but I'm shaking all over. My strawberry-blonde hair has been ripped out over the last few days in aggravation. My alert emerald green eyes have dulled down and my face has slowly sunk. If I'm going to get out of this alive I have to do something, I have to fight the fever. I bite down on my lip and apply medicine to the wound.

I don't have any sponsors; that's clear. Kara plotted with her designer and ruined my interview for me. Now I'm the laughing stock of Panem as well as being condemned. Yes, I'm going to die. I close my eyes and listen around me. My life has slowly crumbled down around me ever since that girl came into the careers. I should have put my foot down, said no. But instead I sat by, shaking in fear toward Precious and Anvike. I hear a rustle in the bushes and open my eyes, whipping my head around. My vision has been slowly deteriorating and all this recent darkness doesn't help. I'm confused about it all. This fever has made everything go dark and gloomy.

How everyone must be laughing at me now. I'm blind compared to everyone else. I can only see figures faintly like I do at night. There it is again, a rustling sound. I stare at the direction from where it came from, my legs shaking. The Gamemakers have sent a mutt to finish me off. I stare at the mutt. Now I'm seeing double, but no, there are two of them. They hold their bodies up straight just like humans, they even look like humans. Wait a second, they are humans. Anvike and Precious! A hope lifts in my heart and I dash towards them. Maybe they can help me; maybe I could live after all.

I run towards Anvike, my arms outstretched. Dral may have run away from me, but Anvike won't, I trust him, he's much more solid than Dral, he's not shallow and petty. I meet him, wrapping my hands around his back. He's saved me, he's saved me. I can feel no more fever, I'm fine. But something's wrong, there's something cold pressed up against my chest. I look down and I see it, with my last breath I see it amongst the blood and pain, I see it now, my blindness cured. I see it.

The dagger.


	5. Dull :Gamemaker:

**Come on! I need requests! I'm stuck... I wrote this by scrolling through all the chapters and selecting one randomly and doing something about it - but I can't keep this up for too long! Thanks to 'aFOXXinthecloset' for requesting LOADS. FOXX requested Suzie, Leo and Martha-Rose, as well as one for Vivian which I will do once I've unleashed a few more chapters of Gnawing Hunger. If you've read up to this review (PLEASE :-( ), even if you don't have a fanfiction account you can still review and request my stories. I need some feedback and requests! :-D**

Dull, dull, and even more dull. Maybe I shouldn't have applied to be a Gamemaker. With my looks I could be a model at one of the best places in the Capitol, but no, me, the hottest Capitol guy in the nearest five mile radius, ends up as a Gamemaker. I thought it would have been all glitz and glamour. I love the hunger games and I imagined meeting some future stars of the television industry would be fun, but no. Instead we just sit around and eat food off the constant buffet. I'm not complaining, the buffet is good, but I still feel I could have done better.

Now we've got the tribute's private training sessions. I thought it would have been fun and that we could mess around and enjoy ourselves, but evidently not. It's just dull. The tributes come in, chuck some weights around and maybe shoot at a couple of targets and build a fire if we're really unlucky. Then they have to ask the head Gamemaker for permission to leave and then the go. Boring!

According to my list next up is the girl from district eight. I can't be bothered to look at her name, it's unimportant really; she'll be as dull as the rest no doubt. Then she walks in, more of a swagger actually. She has luscious blonde hair curling past her shoulders and a sharp face as well as really short shorts. I've heard rumours about what head Gamemakers and important Capitol people have done to tributes and it makes me sick, but now I understand, faced with this girl. I raise an eyebrow and then avert my gaze, picking up a sweet apple from the buffet. No wonder most of the Gamemakers are fat with all this food!

She gives a cheeky grin to the only other vaguely young Gamemaker, Sabian, who is sitting right next to me, and then struts up to the weapons rack and fiddles with the knives. Great, I thought things were going to get entertaining but all I get is another weapon show. But, to my surprise, the girl doesn't stay there; she swaggers up to the Gamemakers banquet at the front. What's she doing? She creeps around to the back of the table, looking over all of us and then her eyes lock with me.

Unlike Sabian I am perfectly cool around girls so I remain a neutral stance. She can't sway me. But what she does next shocks me. She sits on the end of our bench and slides along, until she has joined us. We've all gone deathly silent and I wonder how the Gamemakers will arrange her death in the arena, they're not going to let her live after that. She suddenly looks at me and smiles. That smile is so dazzling, so alluring, I almost fall off the bench. I manage to stay on and remain my composure though.

She slides along on the bench, physically shoving Sabian out of the way, and then she reaches me. I struggle not to make my mouth drop open. Me? Why me of all the Gamemakers? I'm not the top Gamemaker, and I'm certainly not the most influential. All I've got is my looks and my age. Then I realize – that's what she's after.

She ropes her arm around my back and I stiffen. I only wonder what all the other Gamemakers will be making of this. Well, it certainly isn't dull any more. Then I feel the cold grasp of metal smooth along my skin. I freeze as if paralysed and glance down. Somehow, I don't know how, she's got a knife right up to my neck in textbook procedure. She could kill me now and no-one would be able to stop her. What's she thinking? I grip the table with my hands and slowly place my apple down. Sabian starts choking and I really want to laugh, despite my current situation, but I know if my neck moves the knife will slit my throat. I've even stopped breathing, though I don't think I am the only one judging by the silence in the room.

She removes her hand along with the knife coolly and swiftly, yet no-one says anything. Well, she's got all our attention now, if that was what she was after. She goes up to the knife rack and starts picking up knives. Suddenly I find myself surrounded by Sabian and a few other Gamemakers, bombarding me with questions.

"What happened?"

"Are you OK?"

"What's she like?"

"Why did she pick you?"

"What's she doing?"

"How do you feel?"

I shake my head, "Fine, I'm fine." I mutter and then usher them away. I look at the targets the girl has thrown. They're not very accurate, but one Gamemaker seems fascinated with them and her slowly approaches them.

But the girl looks at me, winks and then smiles sweetly, ending it off with a full blown curtsey. I'm lost for words; this is a tribute like no other. I must ask other Gamemakers if they've had anyone like her before.

"Please may I go now, sir?" She asks me. Not the head Gamemaker, but me!

I glance around me but no-one's telling me what to do. I meekly nod and hope I don't get told off about it, after all the head Gamemaker is the one meant to dismiss the tributes, but evidently she was talking to me. The Gamemaker who approached the board is measuring it and he looks at the head Gamemaker and nods. But I ignore whatever weird thing is going on because the girl from district eight makes the last eye contact with me and blows a kiss, knocking me off guard.

I stand there, mesmerised and she exits the room and then slams the door suddenly to be rid of us all. When she does that the atmosphere she built up in this room breaks and everyone goes chaotic, Gamemakers screeching out totally different things from killing her now for disrespect towards the Capitol, that Sabian suggests, to giving her a twelve because she's clearly talented, that is coming out of the mouth of the old Gamemaker who went to measure her shots. I'm confused, but aside from all of this commotion I stare down and look at the girl's name.

_Kara Jaymond._

**What did you think? OK - If you haven't read Gnawing Hunger you'll be really confused right now about all the references to the female tribute from district eight and Kara Jaymond (the same person) :D Soooooooooo... go and read it! PLEASE REVIEW AND REQUEST!**


	6. Maybe :June:

**Thanks tmousey21 for the idea about June and here it is. I thought that she is different to Prim and Rue and the rest, and just because she's twelve doesn't mean she isn't hiding something, although she isn't one of the main characters with a plot twist. I never thought of June particulary differently until recently. So please review and request - I get them done very fast. Also 'aFOXXinthecloset' (my most esteemed requester) has changed her name to 'Let The Foxx Fly', just letting you know if you're confused! =D**

I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm thirsty and I'm starving. No wonder this is called the hunger games. And one more thing – I _hate_ trees, and guess where I am? You got it – in a tree! Maybe I should have killed the chief Gamemaker when I had a chance. I was there in the training session and I had a blowpipe filled with poison aimed right for his heart, not that he noticed. Sure, they would have killed me, but I'm going to die anyway. People think I'm so cute and so little, so un-harmful. Well, they've got another thing coming! They just wait till I get my hands on a blowpipe and then they'll understand.

'June Caper' means nothing to them; 'the cute little girl from district seven' fits my personality more. Unfortunately that dratted boy from my district is still alive, Alan String, I think his name is. He's eighteen and he's huge. But most importantly he's not dead. Sure, I don't like death, but if people think I'm just going to bawl tears every time someone dies they are _so _wrong. I'm a fighter, I don't just go down.

Ouch! I just kicked a branch and now my foot is aching. Why don't I change hiding places? There's bound to be somewhere just as good safely on the ground. But there's something near me. I quickly scramble higher up the tree, my stomach turning to jelly. Why didn't I hide in one of the bushes? The person crashes through the undergrowth, a career. I don't know her name, just she did rather well in training, I remember.

All I know about her is she's out to get me and she's coming just up to my tree. I scramble up a bit higher. Suddenly the girl whips out a sharp knife, I glinting in the moonlight. If I can reach it then I can maybe use it against her, I may be preferable to a blowpipe but I can use a knife if I need to. I'll just go now, snatch the knife and stab her. She can't know I'm here.

"I know you're there," calls the girl. Great! Now my plan is foiled, she'll just stab me where I stand. "Come down and discuss something otherwise I'll knife you."

Maybe I have a chance. She'll kill me anyway if I go down or stay up here, but if I'm down there I have a chance of getting her knife. I slowly scuttle down, watching my step. I don't trust trees; they're horrific, just standing there for ages. I have a motto – live life when you're young not when you're old. I get infuriated by all this respect given to elder people. They're past their prime, what use are they? When they're too old to work they become a nuisance and they should die, but no, instead they feed off their children, forcing their grandchildren out of their homes and onto the streets. That's what happened to me.

I reach the bottom and look at this strange girl, her eyes tearing into me. I give her my toughest glare, though I suppose it only looked stupid. I doubt I've been filmed much but now because of _her_ every camera will be fixed on me, trying to get the best shot. I raise my arm towards hers to reach the knife but she grabs it. I flinch in fear, this is how I die, I'm certain of it.

"You're cold." The girl says. I look at her strangely. What's she doing? She doesn't look like a wimp. Maybe I could finish her off though, but it looks like she's letting me go. She hands me a blanket and mutters something about it warming me up. Well that's great. Now I can be warm when I die!

"Are you hungry?" asks the girl. Am I hungry? I am more than hungry; I haven't eaten since I got into this arena a few days ago! I nod enthusiastically, still slightly unsure but hunger gets the better of me.

She piles over crackers and fruit and meat and water in piles, my hands cupped eagerly for more. My face is full of amazement. The girl's a wimp! I would kill her but I have my hands too full, and anyway, I can always use her for later if I need it she might give me more food! She tells me to scarper and I oblige, heading off on a slight jog. Sure, I'm quite fast but I don't want to give away my speed talent so I let off a few pants as if I'm running flat out. I hear some others come crashing through to meet her and then the boom of cannon fire. Good thing she found me, not them, or I'd be dead.

A grin spreads across my face and I feel a lot better, the night's breeze whooshing through my brown hair. I might actually have a chance after all. Maybe, thanks to the stupid girl from district eight, just maybe, maybe I won't die.

**Keep your hopes up, June, because you'll need it! *wink wink*. NOW is the time to read Gnawing Hunger if you haven't already, and I'll try and process some of the MANY requests (a.k.a. ONE) that I've been getting, but I need more, and I'm not particulary psyched up about writing as Anvike, though I suppose it could be OK, so PLEASE tell me what you think and request. Even if you don't have an account you can! Anything from Gnawing Hunger or Gnawing Hunger related - =D**


	7. Weakness :Anvike:

**Yes, it yet another of 'Let the foxx fly's MANY requests. She asked about Anvike TWICE so what could I do but help her out? Yes, this is different but I wanted you to realize that everyone here is REAL, so now I've written Anvike's persona down I've grown to like him a bit more. Please review because I liked it! =D**

I sit rigidly in the darkness, showing no weakness just as my father told me, and his father told him and his father before that told him. My great-grandfather was a victor. Our family always tries to have at least one victor in the family and when he died the responsibility of the family was passed onto me, Anvike Sinn Tall. Precious is a bit too close for comfort, but that's to be expected. Girls just love me, they can't help it. But I never have loved or will love. Friends are for the weak and family is for the weaker. No, once I am victor my family will stay proud of me. Once I am victor they will bow down before me. I will too have a family to succeed me in the Tall's victor line, but I shall never love or become attached to any of them. Love is for the weakest of souls.

Yet Precious is not weak and Precious seems to hold something for me, something special. To her I am not just her ally, her ticket to fame and glory. To her I am her protector, her knight in shining armour. If only we met in different circumstances, maybe an understanding could come together. If only she lived in district one instead of district two, if only we weren't in these dratted games, then maybe, only maybe, maybe we could have had something.

Precious sits next to me but I remain stiff and upright. I must show know weakness, we are here to kill each other, nothing more nothing less. Death is something that if it is done right you may relish, yet I feel that no matter how it is performed, I could never celebrate over Precious' death. But friends are for the weak, family is for the weaker and love is for the weakest. This motto is what keeps me alive, keeps me strong and futile to enemy attacks. That's what it is, an enemy attack. Precious does not care for me, she just wants me to fall for her so she can attack me when I least expect it. I do not care for Precious. We are only temporarily allies, this cannot last.

Precious is drifting off so I nudge her and we enter our tent keeping out the elements. A small smile plays across my lips as I think of all the other tributes, suffering in the freezing rain which slowly patters down on the tent in the everlasting black which has engulfed the whole arena. I shift myself carefully into my sleeping bag and brush Precious' hand away as she wraps it around me to try and gain some warmth.

So I go to sleep beside Precious, her delicate head resting on my shoulder and I make no attempt to shrug it off. Then I tell myself the same thing that I have been telling myself every night I fall asleep when Precious and I have been together as allies. _Tomorrow_, I promise, _tomorrow I shall kill her_.

**Aw! It brings tears to my eyes (metaphorically speaking of course), Anvike and Precious, the deadly duo... *sniffle* well, review and request because I liked this chapter, but I don't know about you! :( So sad, only one person can win...**


	8. Ice and Fire :Vivian:

**Guess who requested this? You got it right! 'let the foxx fly'. I NEED more requests, so even if you have requested before request again because I need them desperatly! =D**

The cold bites into my toes, freezing my skin. I try to rub my arms and feet but it's useless, it's all useless. The Gamemakers have been dramatically dropping the temperature and guess where I choose to go? I foolishly decide to go into the land of ice and snow, the mountain. At least I know there are no tributes here. Who else would be stupid enough to brave the snow drifts, avalanches and ice caves? Who else would be thick enough to prepare to freeze to death with no blanket, no proper supplies? I modelled a helmet out of some bits and bobs but it doesn't work. I need something strong and sturdy to keep it all together, but all I have for cutting is a sharp flint. It's like being back in the ice age.

The wind whistles with hatred and whips my raw skin, making it fell even more stripped then when my styling team ripped off all my hair with wax. At least I was warm then. I squint, trying to stop the snow from tumbling into my eyes, blinding me. But there's something here. A goat! I exhale loudly. Meat for me and its coat looks warm. I may not have a blanket but I can salvage something from that, and also I hear goat hairs are quite good for starting a fire. Once again I praise my life of working for Kara Jaymond, Lord Jaymond's daughter. If only she knew. If only she knew the truth about us and the reason I did everything. Ah well, it's too late now. I struggle forward against the winds and battle the ice.

Slowly I creep towards the goat, my sharp flint raised. I may look like some demented caveman, but this goat is going to keep me alive. I have to make sure it doesn't see me or it'll bolt and all my hopes of meat and warmth will be lost. I creep up, cursing my boots for crunching in the soft snow. Suddenly the goat's head whips towards me and it runs. But it doesn't run the way I was expecting it to, it charges at me. This must be a Gamemaker mutt, its eyes are a fiery red and its horns are as sharp as needles, as I thought.

The goat runs at me, its head bent low and its nostrils exhaling puffs of flame. Yes, this is definitely a Gamemaker mutt. I raise my small shard of hope and see how useless it looks against the goat. It couldn't hurt it at all. If ever I need a sponsor present it's now but nothing flutters down from the sky. There is no silver beacon of hope. It looks like Hercules and Lumina are backing Kara. Very well then, it looks like I'm alone.

As the goat tumbles towards me I leap out of the way and prod it with my rock. As I suspected, nothing happened. My eyes frantically dart around looking for something, anything, to get me out of this mess. Finally I settle on an icicle. Well, it will have to do. I grab the icicle and it snaps in two, leaving the goat to charge again and me to dive out of the way this time. I glance up at the sky hopefully but still no parachute. I'm sure I must have got at least one sponsor to back me, but no, it seems not.

I carefully extract another, more lethal looking icicle from the cliff and this time it doesn't snap. I taunt the goat and it comes running, a mass of blazing nostrils and clattering hooves. It backs me up against a wall and all I can do is stick out the icicle for the goat to see and hopefully feel. I can sense a lick of fire storming out of the goat and I shove the icicle forward, planting itself in its nostril. The goat freezes for a second and twirls around confused. It tries to snort the icicle out but it is stuck solid. Finally, after one half-hearted puff the goat collapses on the ground, beaten.

I smile happily and pick up the goat, hefting it off to my camp. I feel victory swarm over my heart and I wink at a nearby camera sending a very clear message. Vivian Hall isn't out of the game yet.

**Foxx, you wanted to know what happened to Vivian and if she was on the mountain. Well this should answer it for you. But I'm guessing you're thinking 'But Kara's on the mountain too'. Aha! You've got the idea. Although it is one very big mountain. R&R&R (Read, Review and Request). =D**


	9. Death :Cecil:

I sit here, next to Daphne, counting away the seconds. Soon Suzie will be joining us for we have something important to discuss.

Death.

What a barbaric word for something so beautiful and masterfully sculpted, it sends shivers down people's spines yet it brings such pleasure along with sorrow, such celebration along with mourning. And whose deaths are we to talk about? We are to be talking about killing Kara Jaymond and Dralakone Hurling of course. Those two have a different air about them, they walk differently, talk differently. They aren't real, pure careers. How can I tell? They fear death.

Suzie joins Daphne and me and gives a quick glance towards the tent which Dral has just joined Kara in. They're probably just chatting, they seem to have something going on between them, but even so we keep our voices hushed to a quiet whisper.

"What do you think we should do about them?" Asks Daphne, glancing around furtively, "I say if we all agree on it they're dead, no matter what Anvike and Precious say."

I let out a murmur of agreement but Suzie just glares at us both.

"Are you two stupid?" She snaps, "We can't break the careers this early, anyway, remember what Precious said she'd do to anyone who took a step towards them before their due time?"

We sit there in silence for almost an hour, stoking the fire and even taking a few bites out of our food supply that we have stacked up at the Cornucopia if we can be bothered to get up.

"It looks like they're living then, Suzie. But don't let your judgement be clouded by Dral." Daphne chips into the silence knowingly. I look at her, unsure and then realize she's talking about Suzie and Dral; the relationship that could never be, even before Kara came in and intervened. Suzie just glared at Daphne and huffed.

"Dral? What about him?" Suzie asked innocently, a bit too innocently maybe.

"We all know about-" started Daphne but she was interrupted by Dral and Kara unzipping their tent and coming out. We all tense but Daphne and I relax when we see that they're giggling and messing around, evidently they don't know about our conversation. But Suzie didn't relax, yet another sign that she had a crush on Dral. What a pity that her designer ruined it for her in her interviews or she'd have had a chance.

Dral whispers something to Kara and she pecks him on the cheek and glances at us. She doesn't seem fazed by the fact that we're watching, no doubt because the whole of Panem is too. I see Suzie shift uncomfortably. Ah well, that doesn't matter now. It looks like Dral's made his choice. He's a lucky guy; I'd have done anything to have all those girls clamouring over me. Well, soon I will have the pick of the ladies because I'll be a victor. Then Dral can stuff that in his petty wooden coffin which will rot along with the rest of his body.

Then Dral presses her to him and kisses her on the lips but she shoves him off. All the girls I'll have when I'm victor will never do that, they'll idolise me like a God, they'll worship the very ground I tread on. A huge grin appears on my face. Kara hugs Dral and he kisses her on the forehead and they slowly tumble over here. I look around but I can't see Suzie anywhere. It looks like she made off earlier, she couldn't stand it. Well, I'm not giving them some privacy and neither is Daphne. If the whole of Panem can see it so can we, we have a right to a good show too.

They sway over to us and collapse on the bench next to us. They mutter small words of greetings and we reply, but now we have front seat tickets. Maybe we won't kill them so soon after all, they make quite a show. Dral reaches down Kara's body and she reaches down Dral's until their hands are both around each other's waist. They both laugh like naughty schoolchildren and Dral mutters something that I don't quite catch and take a while to process.

In that while Kara has jumped up and thrown a knife right through Daphne's lungs, not even allowing her to scream before she collapses on the floor on the verge of death. But I'm more worried about Dral and all I can do is open my mouth in a shocked 'O' shape as Dral clasps his clammy hands over my mouth and sticks his sword right in my stomach, skewering me.

I collapse on the ground and see Kara and Dral scurry away into the woods as fast as they can. Then I hear the cannon sound of Daphne's death being signalled followed by another – mine, I think. They evidently think I'm dead but I'm not. Not yet, anyway. The pain sears through my body and I clench my eyes shut to block it out. Suddenly the pain ends and is replaced by a numbness in all my limbs, and then I remember what Dral told Kara before he attacked us.

_I love you._


	10. Wedding :Marie:

**SPOILERS! If you haven't finished chapter 31 or at least 30 in 'Gnawing Hunger' I am telling you that this will probably RUIN the story for you - so be careful before you decide to read this without Gnawing Hunger because I'm telling you it won't be nearly as good without this! :) So...**

**GO AND READ GNAWING HUNGER NOW BEFORE YOU START THIS!**

I, Marie Eyre, am getting married today. And I'm pregnant with another man's child.

I shake all over as the maids dress me up ready for the ceremony. I feel so guilty about Assec. Assec Jaymond has been courting me for a while now, and still I have none other than neutral feelings for him. He's always liked me, with my golden honeysuckle hair and deep blue eyes, who wouldn't? But Assec went further than the others, he stuck by me even though I repetitively told him that I had no interest in him, and now it's going to pay off. Now we're getting married.

I can't believe I did it. Harroc is a father, and a good husband to his wife, but he fell for me. Who wouldn't? With his hair as black as night and eyes such a dark brown that they seemed to be deep pits in the earth, going on for oblivion. Yes, I fell for him. Now I'm pregnant, but no-one knows, not even my mother. If I tell anyone I'm like this than my family name will be ruined forever, so that's why I married Assec. It's early enough for him to be mistaken, to think it's his child I'm carrying. He doesn't need to know any differently, this is my life that has tangled me up in this, and when the child is born I'll escape into the woods with Harroc.

I don't know whether I'll bring the child. Harroc begged me to, but I'm not so sure. Assec is so desperate for a family; it would be terrible to deny him of one. But now it's my wedding day. Most people feel joy or stress or anger or upset. But me? I feel nothing on my wedding day, I feel nothing at all.

My blonde hair is tugged into excruciatingly painful positions by the maids. Usually I would have snapped or got angry, but now I just sit down, hiding into my reserved and patient shell that I have fixed upon myself for the pregnancy. I must try to look happy for the wedding though, I must try to look happy for Assec.

I'm ready. The thought frightens me more than ever. I'm ready to go and get married to a man that I do not love and never will, but what makes it worse is that he loves me and I have to pretend to return the favour. My body shakes with nerves; this is going to be harder than I thought.

Then the church doors open and I see Assec standing there, grinning gleefully. I pump up my face with joy and I slowly glide through the church with an elegance of a swan, all eyes attached to me. I look like a fallen angel, and I'm not afraid to hide it. How I hate to live the lies that I do, but soon it shall be all over and I shall run away with Harroc into the woods and never see district eight ever again. But I think there's one problem to my master plan as I glide down the aisle towards Assec, my eyes never leaving his clean shaven face and winning smile.

I think I'm falling in love with him.

**If you want me to continue with any of these into a proper story then I'll be quite happy too - so just tell me if you want me to continue anything because this one is quite open, as are several others. PLEASE request because I've run out and am having to write my own choice - which isn't that bad, but I'd prefer to do yours! :)**


	11. Cowardice :Daphne:

**tmousey21 - I'm processing all of your requests, and I'll probably get round to doing them all (eventually), well, anyways. Here's your little glimpse of Daphne the coward, and you can say what you think about her. She refuses to think that she's a coward but she is, as shown by this short one-shot. =D Enjoy, I shall be leaving soon though so should't be able to put up another one for over three days unless I can find a computer with internet access! =D Enjoy!**

I clutch my token to steady my beating heart. Most people can just run away from the bloodbath and the danger of spilling blood, but I can't. I have to go right into the thick of it and sustain my status as a career. Or do I? The thought hits me and sends me giddy, swaying slightly. But I steady myself; I don't want to become prey to the minefield below my feet. I have to stay on the launch pad for sixty seconds until the gong sounds. Then I can run.

I'm a career, I have to stay and fight. But the thing is careers don't always kill someone in the bloodbath, and also careers don't always survive. Well I'm going to. If I run straight into the woods for the quick duration of the bloodbath and then come back, making it appear that I was hunting tributes then I'd be fine. If they asked me why I had no weapons I'd tell them I threw my knife at a fellow tribute. The cowardice might not bring me sponsors but it will bring me life, and I'm much more dependent on that.

Sure, it might bring me great speculation when I win the games, but I'll just tell them what I'll tell any of the careers who ask me. I went off to catch any tributes who might try to flee. It's a great plan. I'm surprised I didn't think of it before. Suddenly, before I can decide where to run the gong sounds off and I see the girl from district ten, I believe her name is Naomi, run off into the woods. She's easy prey. If I can get her then I'll easily overpower her.

I sprint off into the woods after her at full speed. She's quite quick for one so small, but I can catch her anytime. She glances over her shoulder and sees me haring towards her and lets out a tiny squeak of terror. I grin mischievously and charge after her at full speed. She darts off into the undergrowth, weaving in and out between the nets of trees. She's quite slippery but she's mine. This is so much easier than fighting off in the bloodbath. I'm a guaranteed career anyway, so I'll just get back.

Naomi is doing quite well and seems almost an even match for me when she stumbles on a root of a tree and comes crashing to the ground. I skid to a halt and loom above her, my hands held outstretched. Suddenly she lets out a piercing scream, this is the hunger games and she knows she's as good as dead so that scream will only bring me trouble. I'll strangle the girl; that will shut her up. I bend down over her and reach out my hands to wring her skinny little neck when a clanging sound booms and something metallic comes crashing down onto my head.

I look up to my attacker. It's the scrawny district twelve girl; she's just hit me with a pot. I snarl and lunge for her in fury but she dodges out of the way and darts off into the trees. I grunt in anger and look down at the girl from district ten, only to realize she's wormed her way out of my way and is scarpering off into the undergrowth along with the girl from district twelve. I hear a little giggle come from them. It looks like the careers aren't the only allies.

Ah well, they can't do any harm. I charge back to the Cornucopia just to see Anvike battering the girl from three, stabbing her repetitively and Kara scanning the Cornucopia alertly. I got here just in time. I pretend to be dazed by all the bloodshed that I was supposed to have been in the thick of but give off a wicked little smile to show that I'm not afraid because I'm not. Daphne Shoe is not afraid.

**Pah! She's scared, a real wuss. But never mind about _her_ mind about me and the juicy requests I'm NOT GETTING! 'let the foxx fly' and 'tmousey21' have bombarded me with requests, yet everyone else is staying silent. Come on! There must be plenty of material in the past 30 chapters I've released! =D**


	12. Television :Assec:

**Requested by tmousey21, written by me! 'Silently I Speak', I haven't forgotten you. I'll do one of yours next, though gnawing hunger is my first worry. OK, it's all a bit far fatched and ludicrous but I wouldn't tell you about a NORMAL Hunger Games, would I? That would be stupid. It has to be extrodinary just for me to make it up, so yes, they're step sisters etc. OH! My new _favourite _chapter is, of course, chapter 36! I've just written it and it's good. When I say just I mean about 4 days ago... ah well, it's good so if it's been published when you're reading it, check it out. Though I'd advise you to read the rest of Gnawing Hunger first.**

I sit in front of the screen, clutching a pillow. There are huge bags under my eyes from sleep deprivation and I have got thinner and thinner, my body slowly eating itself. The only person I allow into this room fastened with locks, bolts and nails is the cook, but even then I find I don't eat any of her food, just stare emptily at the plate, being forever hungry and forever tiered. When I do slip out of this room I dash around as fast as I can and when I do finally drift off to sleep I jerk myself awake just minutes later, my eyes glued on the screen. I have to check that she's OK. I haven't been there. I don't know. But for once I'm glad about the lack of privacy that tributes get; it means I can keep an eye on my daughter and also my step daughter.

Having one relative in the games would be bad enough to break me down, so when Vivian's name was called my heart stopped in terror. But then Kara's name came out. Hadn't I performed my duties as chief peacemaker properly? Hadn't I tried to prevent this with every ounce of power I possess? Evidently I have no power under the eye of the almighty Capitol. Evidently I just don't compute in their mighty minds so I need to be taught a lesson.

I can't bear this. I feel faint and weary, yet I can't tear my eyes away from the screen, even for a second. That second might be her last. When I wake up from having fallen asleep panic weaves through my body until I see the faces of both my daughters and step daughters alike smiling to me from the screen in front of me. Even before the games started I was like this, but not to this degree. The turning point was when my daughter became a murderer in the name of the Capitol. My daughter has killed.

I feel sadness fuse through me and my heart slowly pity itself. Why? Why me? I've started to talk to myself recently. I know I'm going slightly mad, but it's the only company I've got and I need to talk to someone, someone to tell me it's all OK like I should be doing to my child. But no, my parents are dead, my wife is dead, my children soon will be dead. Is there no room for pity in the Capitol's stonily cold hearts? Can't they see what the games are doing to me, to all of us? Are they blind?

I curl up closer, relying on my body warmth to heat me; I've stopped the heating, though that dratted cook keeps on turning it on again. Who does she think she is, my housekeeper? I don't want to but I tear my way away from the screen and hare out of the room like it's a life defying situation. I guess it is. I sprint to the heating and fiddle with a couple of dials. Nothing happens. I hit it but still nothing happens. Eventually I flick some sort of switch and all the heating cuts out, unfortunately with all of the power as well. The power! I quickly flick the switch back and race towards the television like it might have moved. It hasn't.

I slump back down on the chair, defeated. It's clear what I can and can't do, and what I can't do is have a bearing on these games. But what I can do is watch, so I watch for my parents, I watch for my wife and I watch for my children, to get them home safely.

**I've got lots of requests (for once) but I want _different _people aking them this time, not just 'Let the foxx fly', 'Silently I Speak' and 'tmousey21', though thanks to all of you three for your requests and reviews. Everyone else, have a bit of RRR in your day! =D (Sounds like a slogan)!**


	13. Interview :Caesar:

**As requested by 'Silently I Speak', here is Vivian's interview in the eyes of none other than Caesar Flickerman. I don't know if you'll like what I've done with him. I could have made him an oblivious yet eccentric maniac along with many other Capitol people but I saw him differently, the way he always tried to help out the tributes. Please tell me your views on it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and I do take these things into note, even if I don't awknowledge them through an author's note. Happy reading and happy hunger games!**

I shiver at the feel of my pitch black hair. I would have protested but I've learnt by now that you don't protest to the Capitol, you do what they say or you die. In the grand scheme of things dying my hair is probably the least worrying thing that should be on my mind. The twenty four tributes that I've got to help through their terrible ordeal, now, that's something to worry about. I grin helpfully at the girl from district seven, she's such a darling. I know she won't last ten minutes in the arena but I've got to convince the Capitol she's the victor they've been waiting for. I've got to do that or she'll die an even worse death than before. I've got to give her a chance in the arena along with the careers.

I smile at the next tribute automatically but drop it immediately. This girl has a name, they all have names. I force myself to learn them to give them a chance but each time it pulls my heart-strings because I know the only place twenty-three of those names will go is on a headstone. I shiver with hate towards the Capitol and wave my hand towards the seat opposite me, gesturing for this girl, Vivian, to sit down.

She glides towards me and shuffles into the chair, still managing to remain her posture throughout. She doesn't smile, she doesn't wave. She just stares at the screens in an interested way as if they could hold the key to her escape from her deadly position. I beam at the camera to give a contrast to her air of mysteriousness and squeak my chair towards her. What I do now could mean life and death to this girl.

I remember everything I stuffed into my brain about her last night, forcefully cramming knowledge down. Her name is Vivian Hall, she's a maid for Kara Jaymond, the other contestant from her district, eight. Her parents died when she was young for some reason or other, I'm not sure, and she was employed by Lord Jaymond. She got an eight in training so she evidently has some skills. She despises Kara as far as I can tell and would easily kill her in the arena. That's something I can work with if I play it right, and I always play it right.

"So, Vivian," I start, picking my words carefully, "Now you've travelled to the Capitol you must be amazed by all of this technology we have here."

"It's alright." Murmurs Vivian. I scrunch up my eyes in desperation. I better do something to save her, this is when the Capitol gets to know her, she's evidently going or mysterious with that dress so I have to do something.

"I doubt you've seen all the cleaning equipment." I say jokingly. Now this is when it makes or breaks. If she shrugs or doesn't do anything much then she's out of my zone and I change the subject. If she reacts then I'm onto a killer. She scowls at me angrily.

"I wouldn't know. I didn't clean up after _her_ every mistake, it would take hours." Snaps Vivian. Good, it could have been played better but it was fine. My sister, Minty, starts and _ooh_ off in the crowd, I don't know what I would do without her. She's saved my bacon plenty of times.

"So, Vivian, what do you think about the other contestants?" I ask clearly, repeating her name so people will hopefully remember it. I just hope she mentions Kara or the careers.

"I don't know. They're all pretty good." She mutters. Great, she has to go and ruin a perfect set up I gave her. I look at the timer inbuilt in my chair. I have enough time for one more question. I better make it count. I remember one angle that I've forgotten which is very important.

"So, Vivian, that eight in training, what's the secret behind it all?" I ask, now I've mentioned the eight I see Vivian straighten up in her seat, if that's even possible. She's rehearsed this. I'm glad I asked that question, she might actually have a shot with this one.

"You'll just have to wait and see." She pauses and I stare at her, waiting for a huge speech but none comes. Is that it? She doesn't have any hidden secrets to show, she doesn't have any little hints to give the Capitol. Well, I'm not surprised if she does die in the bloodbath with that. I politely nod at her and she moves up with the grace and elegance of a swan and glides to her seat. The other girl from eight comes, Kara. Well, at least I've got some material here to work with. I just don't know how I can make one of them look brilliant without making the other look stupid. I'll have to give it my best shot.

**I'm going back to school tomorrow so the 'brilliant' rate at which I turn these out will lessen, but I won't abandon you as long as there are happy reviewers and plenty of requests!**

**~SneverusSnapers**


	14. Preperations :Debbie:

**Sorry I haven't updated this in ages, I got caught up! But now I'll give you something in the view of Debbie Sparkle as requested by 'Silently I Speak'. 'tmousey21', I have my hands full at the moment but I'll do one of yours next! Anyone else who wants to request, feel free to. I could vary from 500 words to 1,500 words, depending if I like it or not! =D I couldn't find much to write about Debbie, but I just wanted to give you a glimpse into her Capitol mind, yes, she's cousins with Effie Trinket, I decided they were quite alike. So read, review and request some more!**

I stare quintessentially at myself in the mirror. I have no idea what quintessentially means, but I'm pretty sure it's something a true Capitol woman would think, not some grubby child from the districts. Well, it looks like I'm going to be stuck with another grubby child from district eight again, mind you, it was better when they dumped me on district twelve for a year because both of the tributes were the first to go. I shake my head a slightly, then tilt it so my rainbow braids will hopefully shimmer. They don't. I sigh and shake a can of rainbow hair glitter and spray it on, being careful not to break one of my specially manicured nails. Today is a big, big, big, day! Oh no, now I'm even thinking like my younger cousin, Effie. I roll my eyes in a very unladylike way and snap my fingers. Suddenly the Avox girl comes running to my command. Useful, huh?

"Get me a glass of water." I snap at her and march off. Well really, they can take basic commands but they're too simple-minded to do anything important. I pride myself in being especially clever and well brought up. I sigh as I look at my skin tone, dull. Maybe I _should _die it bubblegum pink like Caprica next door, but if I do that I'll look like I'm copying her. Oh, these decisions are _impossible_. The tributes don't have to go through anything like the cultured choices of the Capitol; their stylist does that for them, all they have to do is survive, and how hard is that? I have to make them survive with grace and elegance, like that's going to happen with district eight!

I glance at my wrist and almost let out a yelp, but I don't because that's a very unladylike thing to do. According to the digital watch I have inbuilt into my wrist I'm two minutes behind my schedule! I dash out as quickly as a well bred Capitol woman can and almost sprint across the square towards a taxi. Luckily since it's so early in the afternoon no-one else is up yet, so I'm only spotted by a plastic man setting up a stall for the human skin gloves that are all the rage in the Capitol. Once a reporter asked Snow where the human skin came from. Silly girl, it was evidently donated. She obviously doesn't share my high IQ. Though it was a shame she fell off the roof of her house the next day, some people do such dangerous things. I shake my head at the thought of the typical girl and slide into the taxi.

"The train station," I say and then I notice the driver's peculiar shade of purple, he's not an Avox, which is unusual, "please," I add politely since he's from the Capitol. I'll be arriving in district eight later today or early tomorrow and then I'll be doing the reapings and coming straight back with my two tributes for this year. I hope they're something special because last year's. Oh, I couldn't fathom a thought. I dig into my human skin handbag and withdraw the note that was sent to me from the chief Gamemaker himself! It must be important for him to give it to me. I sniff it, it has a strange aroma, lemon, I think. Carefully, I rip it open in a straight line and look at the note held within on a piece of lace, a new Capitol trend.

I read the note and my eyes almost widen, but that wouldn't be proper. I re-read it just to make sure and then add the lace letter to my collection. Soon I'll have enough to get someone to make me a lace dress as only the most popular and written to ladies have. I smile my award winning smile and allow myself to slouch slightly into the human skin seat. Ah, this is the life, I just hope my two girls will be interesting, yes; I'm having two girls, which really takes the biscuit since district eight is bad enough as it is. I let out a puff of air, which I would hardly call a sigh and close my eyes. Before I know it, I'm asleep.


	15. Red :Precious:

**Sorry I haven't updated this in ages, I was busy because of a new SYOT I started a week ago and have been on that, but I haven't abandoned my dear requestors! So, here is something from Precious' point of view as requested by tmousey21. Don't read this unless you've read Gnawing Hunger up to chapter 39, I think it is, yes, 39. It's chapters 38 and 39 merged together in the view of Precious. I hope you like it!**

Just before Anvike goes I grip his arm tightly and bring him back to me, his warm breath smoothing my skin, making me feel safe once more.

"You won't harm them, will you?" I ask and look into his mad and distressed eyes, darting around. He gives me a maniacal grin and winks at me as if this all was a joke.

"Course not my Precious," He hisses at me, tilting my delicate head to one side with his huge, rough hands and then leans forwards, kissing me on the lips. I close my eyes and feel the delicious sensation of his lips pressed against mine and breathe him in. I don't know what will happen and I don't want to know, all I want to know is at the moment we are safe, both of us. I open my eyes to be met by the darkness and shiver coldly, he left. I try to push worries out of my mind and creep after him from a safe distance.

The two female tributes from seven and eight, who we know are in there are deathly quiet, it's almost like it's a trap. Anvike senses this too and suddenly stops, surveying the cave. We stay like that for a few seconds, frozen, ears pricked for any sounds at all. Then a cough racks from the cave. I freeze, unsure if I imagined it. But then it is followed by another and another. It stops as suddenly as it started but that's not fooling anyone, we know they're there.

Anvike enters the cave. Blocking any exit. But I see him reach for his belt and sense something is wrong. I creep forward; they can't escape, and while I'm trying to cut out all of the pain from the bitter air I see Anvike fingering a knife. What's he doing, is he in trouble? Then I hear a scream, high and frightening.

With no regard for my safety I crash out of the bushes and charge across the frozen stream, cannon fire shooting out of the cave. Is Anvike dead? I almost scream and charge forward, just in time to see a knife embedded in the little girl's chest. I hold in a screech, it has to be a mistake, the knife my Anvike's foot proves that, it was all in self defence. But Anvike looms towards the girl from eight menacingly, her face brave and hopeless as she faces Anvike on her knees. He'll help her out now, he'll help her out. But instead I see him reach for his sword and unsheathe it, playing with it as it glints in the moonlight.

He can't, he can't be doing this, he just can't. Suddenly everything turns red, a deep red, the colour of blood, the colour of madness. I slowly look dazed at my hand, it's red too, like the knife gripped firmly in its deathly grasp. I stare down at my hand and wrench the knife out of the body and help the girl from eight up. She looks at me, terrified. Then I glance at the body and realize who it is and an ear piercing shriek echoes throughout the arena.

Who is making that noise? I glance at the girl but her mouth is forced shut and the other one is dead, then I realize as I collapse on the dying Anvike that it's me. I replace it with sobs, racking up my body, running through the essence of hatred and hopelessness. My hand touches his body, slowly the heat draining out of it. There hasn't been any cannon fire! He's still alive! My speck of hope is obliterated in the cannon fire that shoots through and I scream again, louder and more wretched. I killed Anvike! I killed Anvike!

I find myself talking to him, screaming at him, yelling madly. Anything at all, just so he can realize what he's done. We could have been happy but he has to go and ruin everything, he has to fight everything I say and now he's dead, now I've killed him. I cradle his head in my arms but then someone rips me away from him and I'm thrashing about madly, but the girl from district eight pulls me to my feet and shakes me until we lock eyes.

"I killed Anvike!" I scream, and I know it's true. I just killed him, the person I love. Yes, I love him, and he is dead now because of my hand and my knife plunging into his back. But then the girl from district eight looks me straight in the eye and tells me something that completely knocks me off guard and makes me realize that she's just like me, almost identical. She's not really pretty and sexy, messing around, she's just an ordinary girl forced into extraordinary circumstances. What she says makes my heart bleed with sympathy and regret. What she says changes the view I take on life and everyone around me. What she says transforms me.

_"I killed Dral."_

**R, R & R please!**


	16. I Don't Want It :June's mother:

**This was requested by 'lacrossefreak100' and is June's mother watching her die.**

I blink. No, they can't, they just can't. They do.

I am in front of the television and the reality show I am watching is a lot worse then it could be, it is the hunger games. I gulp as I see my daughter, June, on the screen. I shake my head, she isn't my daughter, not after I had to get rid of her and her brother to make way for my parents. It was a hard choice but now it's looking like a good one, she can survive. Or it was looking like a good one.

My daughter has somehow managed to ally with the most dangerous tribute there, I have no idea how, but there she is. I just went to sleep one night, woke up the next morning and she was with the two most popular tributes in the whole games, one of them the most powerful. Then a skirmish happened and one of them died along with a career but she has been nursing the girl back to health, slowly.

But that's not my, or rather her, problem. She is soon going to be prey from the career girl and boy as they corner her cave. They are unsure though, whether she is there. But then a sneeze jumps out of the box in front of me and I feel like cursing, but I just stare blankly at the screen. I cannot show any emotion, she is no longer part of our family; we decided that along with our decision not to visit her, though really that wasn't my decision; that was my husband's. But, as he wishes, I have no feeling for her now, she is just another tribute. She is not different from the previous or from the next.

But when they enter the cave and her stares menacingly and when she grips her knife and it flies at him but lands short and when he throws his dagger, plunging it into her chest, I know it is not the truth. I feel death, death on the tip of my tongue. Y husband is still, emotionless, as are my parents. But I have to blank it too and that is what I decide, she is no longer in my heart. And as she tells the girl from district eight with her dying breath that she wants me to have that ring that she stole form me when she left for the streets I immediately know I don't want it. She is no longer part of this family so I don't want it. I don't want it at all.


	17. Silence :Rip:

**I've had quite a few people ask about Rip so, despite I am very busy with exams, I have taken the time off revision to write this quick one-shot. I'm sorry it's short but I really have no time. The sequel to Gnawing Hunger (yes, there's going to be a sequel) will start in a few weeks and I might do one of these for that too, but I don't know if I should use the same document or a different one, I think I might use the same, keep 'The Realisation of Hunger' for both of them and I will accept requests for that too! Thanks all, I hope you enjoy! =P**

Silence, I hear silence. Then a cackling laugh breaks out, echoing around the arena. It's a maniacal laugh, a bloodthirsty laugh, a laugh full of hatred and vengeance. It's my laugh.

He thought he could kill me and get away with it, well he is so wrong. Guess who is dead instead of me? Him! Dralakone Hurling. I, Rip Thread, am alive and I, Rip Thread am still fighting in my own special way. I know it won't be so for long though, my wound in my shoulder is infected, but I will wait for the two girls to seek each other out and kill each other. No-one will find me here. I am camped up a huge tree, suspended in the branches with some sort of pulley system bringing me up water whenever I need it. Food is not so simple. I eat bark and any insects I can find crawling around up here and once I even caught a squirrel, but although food is scarce I can survive off moss, bugs and bark. It's much better than going down because I know if I go down I won't have the strength to go back up again, if I go down I will die.

Another cackle escapes my mouth, wild and ruthless. I have left my mark. I may not be alive for much longer if this continues for much longer but it doesn't matter really. I'll wait it out like I did the rest of the games, as I saw tributes scamper around me. As soon as I got wounded I decided to move trees and left, scampered for days until I found here, a giant tree as tall as the training building with all of its thirteen floors. I snigger again at myself; I was scared at first, scared of heights. But I became accustomed, I got used to it. Now it means nothing to me anymore, my legs are no longer wobbling uncontrollably with fear and my face is no longer scrunched up with desperation, I am at home here, here in the trees.

But I have a more immediate danger than starvation. My wound is red and raw and pus is seeping out. I ripped off my shirt and used it as a bandage but it didn't work, I am doomed. I am doomed if I don't win. But I feel tired, really tired. Black keeps on flashing before my eyes and I keep on drifting out of reality, if only to snap back in immediately afterwards. I keep on drifting in and out of consciousness, I just can't lose this battle to fall asleep though, because I know it's more than sleep I'm warding off, it's death.

But my vision goes black and crackly and everything blurs. I try to remind myself what I said days before when I was warding off insanity, _My name is Rip Knead, I am eighteen years old, I have a girlfriend who will soon be my wife, I am in the hunger games, and I cannot die. My name is Dip Seed, I am eight years bald, I had a weapon that will never be my knife, I am in the blunder ways, and I cannot sigh. _I failed in my battle against insanity, I failed. And just like that my battle against fatigue has the same verdict. I failed then, I fail now. It ends like it began, my life, my story, my heart. But this time no noise follows, this time there is just that sound, that sound of oblivion, that sound of nothingness, there is just silence.

**I just wanted to mention that I have a poll up on my profile about what I should call the sequel to Gnawing Hunger, which will start in a couple of weeks, so go and check it out! :D**


	18. Going Home :Hercules:

**This is 'Silently I Speak' 's final request! Silently wanted to know more about either Debbie or Lumina's games and who was I to deny? You might have noticed that I have now got a sequel AND a prequel to Gnawing Hunger – 'Shattered Hearts' and 'Falling For Him'. I hope you read those and enjoy yourself as well as reading these! I chose to do Hercules' games because Hercules is just awesome! Thanks all!**

**~SneverusSnapers**

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><p>I try not to think about it. I know they're behind me – both of them. Nadia and Loraine, the lethal girls from districts one and two. The only surviving careers aside from me. It's just me and them now, the girl from six won't be alive much longer and she is no threat. Nadia and Loraine are the threat. I try to control by breathing steadily. I'm eighteen and Nadia is seventeen and Loraine is sixteen. They're younger than me, I can take them easily. Or I could. I could if there weren't two of them. I could if I had a weapon. Yet all I have is my brute force, although I know it is my strength I also know it is my weakness. I am slow because of it, that is the tactic they will use against me – speed.<p>

They too have no weapons. The Gamemakers destroyed all weapons ten days in. I don't know how they did it – I don't really want to know. All I really know is that no-one has anything remotely weapon-like from the Cornucopia. Maybe the girl from six has a sharpened stick or something along those lines. All I know is that I am weapon-less. And so are they.

I can sense their decision before they charge, the air tensing, their breathing suddenly inhaling rather than exhaling. Yes, I know. Then they charge. And in a bat of an eyelid they are right next to me, practically staring me in the face. But I am ready and when they charge they charge into my outstretched arms. Before Loraine can duck I have clutched her in my left hand, gripping my arm around her neck. Yet Nadia is sneakier, Nadia saw it coming. She dives down just in time and rolls under my outstretched arm and then springs to her feet the other side of me. Loraine is still struggling, scratching and kicking and pummelling at my left arm. But that isn't the problem. Nadia's the problem. In a blink of an eye I whip around to face her, to make sure she doesn't try anything.

But Nadia can see my problem; I'm still struggling with Loraine in one arm. I tense my muscles in the left, squeezing Loraine's neck tighter to try and cut off her breathing and make her stop struggling, but that only makes her worse in a panic. Before I know what is happening Nadia is in front of my and about to lunge. I twist my spare right arm and grip her hair, tugging it backwards. She shrieks. Well, I never said anything about playing fairly after they teamed up against me. It's clear they only stuck together until I was down in hope that the other might die then. They couldn't take me on single handed and they can't take me on together either.

I roar at Nadia and clutch her neck too. Then I drag then both behind me and clench my muscles to squeeze their necks. They can barely scream and I feel Loraine's struggle loosen and she goes limp. I drop her and cannon shoots through the arena. Almost immediately afterwards I see a tell-tale twinkle in Nadia's eye and then she goes limp too. But I don't let go. I can tell she only did it to get free. Her last hope. A hope in vain really. I try not to think about it all, this really is haunting me.

Then Nadia realises, too late, that I know her plan. And then cannon fire ricochets through the arena and I finally drop her body as well. I pause and then nod my head to their bodies. They deserve it, no matter how horrendous they were they were worthy opponents to the end. Then I drop my battle stance and jog light-toed towards the Cornucopia. There's only one place that girl from six can be now and I'm going to find her. And this time she's all that stands between me and getting home. I'm going home.


	19. Briar :Lumina:

**This is a request from 'Arcticmist'. I hope you enjoy it. This is Lumina in the final two of her games.**

_Briar Golding. District eight. My boyfriend._

Briar and I used to roam the streets together, salvaging what we could and "borrowing" the rest. We were inseparable, a team. But we were friends; just friends. Until then that day of the reaping, we arrived together and we left together. I got reaped. He volunteered to protect me. I asked him why later on the train. He kissed me.

Nothing could have stayed the same then even if it was in normal circumstances but these are the hunger games; you can't have relationships, they're going to be your downfall. So we hid it, we tried to forget it. But to me he's my boyfriend, albeit secret boyfriend and to him I'm his secret girlfriend; not what he would want but that was what it was. Briar always had a way about him; some might call him a rebel, though I wouldn't go that far. He always had to be right and no-one could tell him what to do. He was a leader yet we were a team. We worked together, both of us. Until the games. We parted ways and pretended we didn't know each other. We hid hoping, praying that someone else would finish the other off. Yet nothing happened.

I killed. Twice. And every time I killed I had to check the face on the body. Twice. Just to see if it was him, but it wasn't. Every night I would stare at the sky just wishing to see his face up there just to help me let go. But it never came. And now there is just the two of us standing here on either side of this clearing face to face knowing that only one of us can live. And it has to be me. I step forward carefully and Briar does too so we are both out in the open.

"Lumina?" Briar calls, checking it's me. As if there might be a small chance that it wasn't, but as I nod I see his face sink as if something that has been set in stone has come to life, as in he is being called in to honour an old debt. Then suddenly without warning a cry escapes his lips and I dash forward to see a dagger embedded in his chest and his hands gripping them. I gape at him.

"What have you done?"

"What is right." Briar gasps and then releases his hands pressing into his chest and sinks to his knees, scuffing the mossy ground in desperation. I run to him and he falls backwards, pressing himself further into the ground.

"Why?" I ask him and he gives a small grin through clenched teeth and beckons me closer. I lean forward reluctantly, wondering if it is all a trick to get me close, almost hoping. But it isn't. I feel something cold slide into my palm and Briar gasps looks me right in the eye.

"You know why." He splutters and then he almost forcefully grabs my hand and brings it to the knife. I realise too late what he wants he to do and with a forceful breath he uses my hand to pull the knife out of his stomach and with a final intake of breath and a smile closer to a wince the cannon fires.

I hear the whirring of the hovercraft, but before I move towards it I open my palm to see what he pressed in my hand. When I see it I can barely catch my breath. It's his district token, his mother's engagement ring. I shudder as I carefully pull the ring onto my finger and bow my head solemnly to keep silent.

_Briar Golding. District eight. My fiancée._


	20. Lies :Naomi:

**CamillaAsgreen asked after Naomi and Tamsen's alliance and it-was-enchanting asked for something to do with Tamsen so now I have a short and sweet little chapter about Tamsen and Naomi – the girls from 12 and 10, who seem to have struck quite a chord while they have been here. I may have loads of requests to handle but I am still happy to get more, you just may have to wait a while. I'm doing them in order of preference and trying to do it so I don't use the character more than once. Oh yes, and tell me if I spelt 'Naomi' wrong, just I'm pretty useless with spelling it, it just seems so unatural to me, with the 'o' and the '****a' in a wierd order and the 'i' and stuff... creepy...**

"So..." I manage to stumble slightly as I look into the face of the girl by me, Tamsen Heart, the girl from district twelve, "what do we do?"

"I guess we wait." She says simply and so we do. We wait.

We have been walking for the past day or so and we have finally managed to find a gnarled tree that will hold the both of us and we are perched into it like the mockingjays surrounding us.

"Tamsen." I finally say into the billowing silence.

"What?" she asks me simply, turning her head in my direction.

"I just, I just wondered about; you know, your family and stuff." At my words Tamsen's face sinks.

"I don't have any. They... perished in a fire that burnt both my home and my heart."

"Oh." Is all I can say and the silence embraces us once more.

"Naomi." Tamsen speaks up and I whip my head around to look at hers, penetrating the silence.

"Yes?"

"What about your family?" She asks me. What am I meant to say? Am I meant to tell her about my little daredevil brother and my angelic older sister, my drunken mother or my father who works to his bone to keep my family stable? No. No, I cannot and I will not say. So I tell her what will make both her and me comfortable. I lie to her.

"I have no family. They died of a disease from the livestock they milked every day."

"Oh." Is all Tamsen says in return and we both return to silence once more. One lie; one simple lie though has rocked our relationship. And I know that once I have started lying I will never be able to stop. Ever.

**It was short but I badly wanted to publish something today. Sorry. Tell me if you want me to set one of these up for Shattered Hearts or any other of my stories, or just open this to Shattered Hearts.**


	21. Mercy :Butch:

**As requested by "tmousey21" a LONG time ago, I have finally got around to write a short one-shot for the boy from five's death at the hands of Daphne and Cecil promptly named "mercy". I hope you enjoy it and keep on sending in requests. I think I'll only do one POV per person though, so Vivian won't be having another one-shot in her name, neither will Dral nor anyone else who I've already done. That would be different if I opened a new one up for Shattered Hearts, but I'll only do that if you want me to. So tell me! ;D**

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><p>What do people think of when the name "Butch Johnto" comes up?<p>

Do they think of a ferocious battle scene plagued with love, passion and romance? No.

Do they think of his independent trials to keep his family upright through hardships and the terrors of district five? No.

Do they think of the struggle between living and dying, the decision that would change anyone, the decision to kill to live? A clue: no.

When people hear the name "Butch Johnto" they will always think of this night. The night I died. They'll pin it as a tragic accident, a mistake. They stumbled across me; nothing more, nothing less. They will call me what those two called me, my murderers. They will say I "whimpered like a kid" when I died. They will talk and boast about my death. No respect for me, any of them. But what do you expect really, in a pair of careers and the Capitol? No-one would understand, no-one would care.

The night when I lay on the floor dying, squealing in pain. Ignoring the girl's false claims that she wounded me originally on the leg in the bloodbath, ignoring the voices of torment, ignoring my cry, my plea to help. To save me. And those words, ignoring them too as they poured out of my mouth, _no, no, I want to live. I have so much to do with my _life. Of course they didn't let me go, they wouldn't let me go, they couldn't let me go. They were incapable of it. Mercy.

It's a simple thing; mercy. They could never hold it. They could never feel it. They could never use it. Not on me anyway. It was a long shot, hoping that they'd save my life. If it was someone else maybe, but that spear the boy threw, and as they will say "the blood was _everywhere_." Quite simply because it was. The blood _was_ everywhere. I know. It was my blood. It is my blood. Don't they care? They can let blood flow out of me and they do not care. They can let pus ooze out of me and they do not care. They can let life ebb out of me and they do not care.

They are incapable of it. Mercy. They cannot do it. Mercy. They do not have the will, the strength or the gratitude for it. Mercy. They have no love or feeling that it needs. Mercy. They have no real heart to contain it. Mercy. They are too cruel, too callous for it. Mercy. They don't have it. Mercy. They won't have it. Mercy. They can't have it. Mercy. Because it belongs to the right, it belongs to the just, it belongs to the loving and it belongs to us. Mercy.


	22. Tributes List

As requested by 'tmousey21' we have a list of tributes. The ones in **bold** are the ones I have done a viewpoint for. They have weird names, I know, but this was MY personal list, but I had to slightly alter it because it said who's killed by whom. If you REALLY want I can do more than one through a viewpoint of a character or a hidden scene through Kara's eyes. I've also added other people I've done at the bottom.

District 1

BOY **Anvike Tall **

GIRL **Daphne Shoe**

District 2

BOY **Cecil Rees**

GIRL **Precious Good**

District 3

BOY Jasper Knot

GIRL Sara Bolts

District 4

BOY **Dral Hurling**

GIRL **Suzie Thread**

District 5

BOY **Butch Johnto**

GIRL Marie Tyler

District 6

BOY Vladimir Butcher

GIRL **Martha-Rose Fall**

District 7

BOY Alan String

GIRL **June Cape**r

District 8

GIRL 1 **Vivian Hall**

GIRL 2 Kara Jaymond

District 9

BOY **Rip Knead**

GIRL Tara Dessin

District 10

BOY Jon Cave

GIRL Naomi Jones

District 11

BOY Alvin Smith

GIRL Maya Horton

District 12

BOY **Leon Ripe**

GIRL Tamsen Heart

**Marie Eyre**

**June's Mother**

**Assec Jaymond**

**Young Gamemaker**

**Caesar Flickerman**

**Debbie Sparkle**

**Hercules Stayton**

**Lumina Carter**


End file.
